


In a Week or for A Thousand Miles, I'll Get Back to You

by cpunksteverogers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergence, Here Lies the Abyss, M/M, Multi, Salluvani Lavellan, Trans Fenris, Trans Inquisitor, Trans Male Character, alistair and hawke live, might end up with sex, slight AU, slight horror???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpunksteverogers/pseuds/cpunksteverogers
Summary: Dorian feels something worse than the nightmare when Salluvani, Alistair, and Hawke are left in the fade when Vani closes the rift. Luckily Varric already has a plan that's put into motion. With the aid of two elves from Kirkwall, the Inquisition should be able to reclaim its leader and allies.





	1. Dorian 1

Dorian felt his heart reach up to his throat. The fade rift closed, but Salluvani didn’t return, nor did Hawke or Alistair. Most importantly, Vani hadn’t made it past the rift. The moment his amatus pushed him through the Rift without following, Dorian had a moment of horror worse than what he saw from the nightmare; Oh Maker, this is it. I’m finally going to lose him, and he had. Varric was speaking to him, attempting to calm him down, convince him Vani and Hawke were resourceful enough to defeat the Nightmare with the Warden. But Dorian was incapable of comprehension, of rationality, of any ounce of bravery. The altus felt tears well in his eyes.   
“Sparkler? You know they’ll be fine.” The dwarf’s words finally reach Dorian’s brain.  
“How do you know?” Dorian can’t keep himself from snapping. He can’t even keep himself thinking, let alone have an ounce of composure.   
“Well, the elf can conjure up rifts – he’ll probably come up with some way to come back here in five minutes. And even so, I know one of the eluvians that reached into the Fade. It shouldn’t be too hard to find them, we just have to send a letter to Kirkwall?”  
“Kirkwall?” Dorian scoffs, “Why are we sending in someone from there?”  
“Probably because one of Hawke’s closest friends is a former Dalish first with a working Eluvian, ergo, Sparky, has a way to get Hawke, Alistair, and the Inquisitor back. Besides, you’re a powerful mage aren’t you? Couldn’t go to him in dreams?”  
“As though I don’t already,” he fails to keep to himself as Varric smirks.  
“Okay, that’s going in the book.”  
“Maker Varric,” Dorian sighs and notices Cullen approaching them along with a lower ranked officer.  
Cullen has the typical crease in his brow and looks on the edge of a broken vein.   
“What happened? Where’s Hawke? Alistair? The goddamn inquisitor? What happened there?” Dorian looked down at his boots.   
“They were left behind,” Dorian couldn’t keep his voice from breaking, “They stayed behind, and Salluvani fucking closed the rift without coming through.”  
“Maybe we should be a bit easy on him, Curly, this isn’t exactly an easy thing for Dorian to deal with.”  
“An easy thing for Dorian? What about for the world? No one else is capable of closing those rifts! What are we supposed to do?”  
“I have a plan actually… it involves going to Merrill.”  
“What a coincidence,” Cullen groans, “that’s what I initially came here to talk to you about. Tell them what you told me.” Cullen turns to the other officer.  
“We just received word from Josephine,” the officer speaks with little confidence, “Two elves apparently came through the elven mirror the apostate newcomer brought to Skyhold. One had Dalish markings, the other, markers that looked Dalish, but were made of lyrium. They’re demanding you two and the Champion’s presence at once.” Dorian felt like he heard about a ghost.   
“Maker, Broody’s involved? Shit. Well Curly, Sparkler. We should probably head on some mounts and hurry to Skyhold ahead of everyone else. This won’t be pretty.”  
“I’m sorry, were they just describing Fenris?” Dorian finally speaks.  
“You know Fenris?” Cullen asks astonished.  
“Unfortunately, I had attended a few parties at his former master’s mansion when I was younger. My father needed to create alliances with the people he disagreed with more than the ones with equal terms already.” Dorian shudders at the memory, “It was my first time seeing a slave treated so awfully. I knew there were abuses, but I never saw anything like that. When I could I’d try to sneak him some food, a cup of wine. Until my mother caught me anyway.”  
“I can’t believe Broody used to be friends with an altus.”  
“I’m not sure that’s the case, Varric. I just treated him with some kindness. Definitely never grew to trust me.” Varric smiles. And tries to assure him of everyone’s safety across the Veil. But Dorian found himself incapable of sleep last night.   
“I don’t know, Sparkler. Broody hasn’t had much kindness in his life before meeting heart from what I understand.”  
“And you think having Hawke and Vani in the Fade will make him have some heartwarming nostalgia about Tevinter?”   
“Fair point,” the dwarf shrugs, “maybe he’ll kill you instead.”  
“Rather than waste our time talking about this, can we please try to make our way towards Skyhold?” Cullen is nearly as exhausted as Dorian, “We need to leave before people notice the Inquisitor is missing.” A chill crawls down Dorian’s spine. When they camp twenty miles east, Dorian is incapable of sleep that night.

The next few nights are no easier, as Dorian manages to stay awake through the next four. Even through the sixth night, nearly drunk from exhaustion, he couldn’t let himself sleep. Why couldn’t Salluvani open up another rift? Was he hurt? Dead? Dorian couldn’t let his mind linger on the last point any longer, to keep himself going mad with worry. There must be something wrong for Vani to not have made another rift at Adamant. Unless they were not longer where the fade intersects there.   
“Dorian you must be exhausted by now,” Cullen sits beside him near the fire, “Go rest, I can keep watch this shift.”  
“Thank you, Commander, but there’s no point in leaving me off guard when I couldn’t possibly sleep anyhow.”  
“I know you worry for him.”  
“Worry for him? Cullen he’s physically stuck in the fade.” Dorian’s drained energy exhibited its existence with each passing syllable, “Words are incapable of articulating the way I feel at this moment. My heart is in pieces, my brain is in shambles. I’m currently living out my worst nightmare.”   
“You still need to take care of yourself, Pavus,” the Ferelden placed a hand on his shoulder, “We both know he’s skilled and resourceful enough to survive this, and that he’s just as preoccupied worrying about you as you are him. If he found out we allowed you to make yourself sick over him, he’d never forgive any of us.” Dorian chuckles for a moment.  
“And how exactly does sleeping help him?”  
“We both know the answer to that, Dorian. When you sleep you’ll go into the Fade and you can find him. Tell him of our plans to bring him home. And you’ll stop making me look like the group jokester. Now go to sleep.” Cullen even brings Dorian’s bedmatt close to the fire so if he went into a nightmare, Cullen could wake him. It still took him a while to allow himself to relax and finally drift to sleep. The Commander was clearly right, however, he’d almost collapsed on his horse multiple times that day and dying of exhaustion would make none of this any better. As Dorian allows himself to slip into unconsciousness, he appears in ruins. This sleep was the first time Dorian had been in the fade since Adamant, and he instantly recalled how strikingly different it had looked through his dreams rather than reality. Maker if I can’t find him. Panic began to rise through him, and instantly felt as though he would experience the exact reason why Dorian didn’t want to sleep that night. If what he saw as the fade was different from what the fade physically was, how would the Vani he found actually end up being him? And then he hears Salluvani draw plans with the other two heroes in a way that a demon could never fake and Dorian feels a flood of happiness and anger on a completely equal level. The elf looks up at him and the smile on his face almost makes Dorian fall to his knees as his partner excused himself from the others and ran up to him.  
“Creators, vehnan is that you? Where have you been?” Dorian is astounded by how true his voice rang to his amatus.  
“I haven’t slept in few days.”  
“Dorian why would you do that.”  
“Fuck, why would you think, amatus? You didn’t come out of that rift and you closed it how should I feel? Do you know what that did to me? You pushed me out and the rift closed before I had you back. Vani, that was worse than everything the Nightmare showed me.”  
“Hawke and Alistair could never decide which one should stay behind, and I couldn’t leave them both alone. I figured I’d be able to open a rift right after, but after defeating the Nightmare, I’d been wiped out.”  
“Yes, you look fairly injured if this is no mirage,” Dorian saw bandages tied around Vani’s ribs, a brace around his left shoulder, lacerations that had to be stitched on top of using healing magic, bruises beyond count.  
“Hawke healed me up as well as he could. And I can manage for now… we just need to find a way out.”  
“You should have just left with me,” Dorian wants to reach for him, so badly, and Vani seems to hear his thoughts and take one of Dorian’s hands in his.   
“I couldn’t do that. And you were back, which was all that mattered.”  
“Not to me,” Dorian snaps, “and not to the rest of the world for that matter. Look… Varric found a way to get you three back, of course. His and Hawke’s old companions from Kirkwall – Fenris and Merrill – apparently arrived at Skyhold through Morrigan’s eluvian. If you go back to Adamant, we should be able to bring you back.”   
“We can manage to do that. I love you, Dorian. I’m sorry this ever happened.” Vani looks at him as heartbroken as he feels. Even though he’s angry at the situation, Dorian can’t manage to stay angry at him for being the hero he always is.  
“Do me a favor though?” Dorian manages a half smile, “Can you make sure to actually survive until we’re able to meet you? I can’t handle losing you again.”  
“You won’t have to worry about me. I’m fighting with two legends.”  
“As though you’re not one yourself?” Dorian lets out a laugh before he wakes up again.  
“At least you managed to get a few hours of sleep,” Cullen sighed.  
“How long would it take the two of us to return to Skyhold starting now?” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.  
“With how you sleep, probably less than three days. What are you? Dorian we can’t be doing this?”  
“We’ll take six-hour breaks at night so each of us can get a few hours. That way I can check out Vani’s progress and we won’t be totally exhausted. Come on, Cullen. You know we need him back.” The Commander sighs and already rises to get some water, bread, and horses.  
“This plan of Varric’s better work,” Cullen sighs. Maker, Dorian hopes so too.


	2. Hawke 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Hawke's Point of View. Garrett discovers that mages can cross the fade during their dreams regardless of which way they want to go. He finally visits Fenris in his sleep, lets him know about what should come ahead.

Maker, he was in for the it if what the Inquisitor says is true and they manage to survive the journey back to Adamant in the raw fade. Salluvani had left their conversation the night before for a while before returning with a grin that had no place on the man, he’d gotten to know at Skyhold, especially not bearing the injuries he still does. From Hawke’s impression, and the impressions of most of Skyhold’s occupants, the Inquisitor was often a cold man, but one who was genuine with care and good around children. His humor was rarely seen by most due to his mainly assertive behavior – letting his actions speak more than his words, not that hadn’t been more beautiful words than Varric at times – but when he did speak, he held more vigor, intelligence, as well as blunt and sardonic, yet more charismatic humor. Fenris would get along with the Dalish Inquisitor, Hawke knew, even if the young elf had fallen for an Altus from Tevinter.

Although the Inquisitor’s happiness around finally seeing the man was as understandable as it was shared by Hawke and Alistair. The Tevinter mage, Dorian had apparently finally found them in the Fade or wasn’t sleeping or something and Varric – as Hawke predicted would happen – had conspired a plan to extract them from the Fade. Hawke had no surprise that Merrill would have to be involved when he had even noticed the exact symbols on Merrill’s Eluvian in the Fade, or that they would in fact have to return to Adamant in at most, exactly a week in order to reach them in time. Considering that’s where the Eluvian was and Merrill was the only person he knew who could use it, and the Inquisitor would be needed to close rifts on the other side and finally kill Corypheus. However, that mark was doing no good for them now. None of them knew when Lavellan’s mark would work with all of its power. Not that making a rift where they had no idea where they’d pop up would be a good idea. The Inquisitor was too injured for them to show up where no one could find them, or worse Samson’s camp. Not that Fenris or Dorian would allow the Inquisition to not return to the Fade periodically before they returned.

Fenris, that’s why Hawke was in the shit. The elf had recently taken too many hits as they’ve taken out Slavers together, and even needed _Anders_ to heal him due to those injuries, as though Hawke hadn’t long practiced spirit healing himself. There was no way Hawke could take him to Skyhold to fight against Corypheus – a mind controlling Darkspawn back from the dead – while Templars were there with _infected lyrium._ Of course Fenris would be pissed, but Hawke was hoping that he would have a break until returning to Kirkwall. Alistair sent him a look in his peripheral and with a nod in response, they set the Inquisitor down on a rock bench.

“What are you doing? Guys, we have to go back before we run out of time.”

“Inquisitor, we were both dragging you the last two hours. You’re clearly not in shape to walk for the time being.” Alistair sighs and gives the elf some water in his water sleeve. Thankfully Hawke brought more along with him, should be enough for five days, if Alistair and himself can be conservative with it. “Let Hawke heal you some more and I’ll rewrap your bandages.”

“Are you saying my bandaging skills are bad?”

“Hawke, your brother was one of my recruits, I know what your bandaging skills are like. Besides the last time you tried to do the Inquisitor’s, they were twisted.” Alistair chuckled, “I had to rewrap them myself.”

“It’s true, sorry Hawke,” Salluvani shrugs, “but if we’re going to be traveling together in the fade for the next few days, please refer to me by my name. It’s a bit exhausting to just hear _Inquisitor_ every moment of the day.”

“Believe me, I know how it feels,” but Hawke also doesn’t. Hawke _decided_ to rise up and fight the Qunari and duel with the Arishok, he _chose_ to be defiant towards Meredith and save the mages from the Rite of Annulment. Salluvani was just a kid, practically. His mark, his becoming the Inquisitor; all a coincidental accident.

“Me too,” Alistair nods, “I’m just used to trying to appease titles. But please, Salluvani. Let us help you.” The elf sighs and motions for Hawke to come towards him, allowing Alistair to aid him in removing his armor and tunic. Hawke focuses on the mess with his ribs, reconnecting bone was the hardest part of healing, Hawke still agreed. The shouts he knows are coming from the Inquisitor’s mouth are muffled by a cloth Alistair retrieves from his bag. Hawke immediately recognizes the sigil and coloring of the Grey Wardens; he decides to keep to himself until he after he moves from his ribs to the lacerations on the Inquisitor’s face. Alistair then begins to bind cotton around Salluvani’s ribs and shoulder again.

“How did you learn how to do this anyway, Alistair?” Salluvani asks, “Templar trained warriors aren’t usually skilled healers.”

“Well, that’s easy,” the Warden sighed, “this may surprise you, but I’m a rather clumsy person,” Hawke pretends to gasp in surprise, “Anyway, I often watched when healers would tie up my slings or ribs together. And one of the Wardens I work with often and closely honestly fights like a bull. He’s strong and to the point. But not very fast and gets hit more than a few times.” Hawke immediately recognizes the Warden mentioned in the story.

“I suppose you got that cloth you used on Salluvani from that Warden as well?” the blush in Alistair’s ears all but explicitly confirmed Hawke’s estimates.

“I figured he would’ve told you before.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever be the person Carver went to about his love life. Got to hand it to him. He’s got to be the only person to get better game in the Grey Wardens compared to before. I hope you at least make each other happy,”

“Trust me, we do. Now, what do we do for dinner.”

“I actually have some ram meat and herbs in my bag.” The Inquisitor offers.

“I can light the fire and I have stuff you can double as cooking tools,” Hawke feels himself shrug, “Can you at least cook, Alistair?”

“I can make something half presentable.” The items are handed to the Warden and Hawke lights a flame in the middle of the air. This should work for a few hours.

“Do you have faith that Dorian will be able to come here by the time we arrive at Adamant?”

“You have faith Merrill and Fenris could help them achieve the task?”

“Varric never did mention how clever you are.”

“I try not to make a show of it,” Salluvani shrugs and winces immediately, “perhaps we were right to stop.”

“Yeah, I believe so. Are you alright?”

“Not something I can’t handle with a pause. And certainly not the worst I have handled.”

“I can believe that,” Hawke chuckles, “Is Dorian supposed to be ‘visiting you’ tonight?”

“I don’t know. I guess that depends if he finds me or not. But maybe you should try to talk to Fenris or Merrill. Warn them of what we’re doing.”

“I don’t even know if I want to see Fenris angry through the Fade,” Hawke shudders, “He didn’t exactly let me leave without a fight.”

“Well right now, he’s in limbo on knowing whether or not you’re alive. You’d go mad if the same thing was happening if the roles were reversed.”

“You’re quite wise for your age,” Hawke smiles.

“I lead a religious institution for a following I don’t believe in. I have to at least pretend to be.” He looks over to a figure in the distance, “Excuse me.” Must mean they finally fell asleep. Which means the people in Skyhold must be for a few more hours. The moment he started trying, Hawke immediately regretted not learning how to be more fluid in his connection to the fade. After several minutes and finally being able to shut out Alistair’s self-attending storytime, Hawke managed to feel his spirit flow from the Fade and to the spirit world. All he needed to do was attract himself to the nearest sentient source of regular lyrium.

Although Hawke knew he was in Skyhold, seeing it through the physical Fade was a sight unlike any other. The green had glowed and reflected off the stones, the snow had been soft gel on the Mountains. And Fenris was rocking himself, teetering side to side. Hawke hadn’t seen something like this since two months after Danarius was murdered, as nightmares had become rare in general over the years. But Fenris had been sweating, swearing in Tevene, and his marks were glowing. Hawke had to wake him up.

“Fenris please!” His partner shot up immediately, and stared at him with his head tilted to the side and a combination of confusion and anger.

“You… are not really here,” he says plainly, sadness behind his words.

“I’m… physically in the Fade so. No. I can just pass through here with concentration I guess.”

“In the Fade?”

“Listen to me. Varric found out a way to bring us back. By Adamant’s location in the Fade there’s a group of Eluvians. One of the ones that connects to the Fade is Merrill’s. In six days when we reach there, you, Dorian, Cullen, Merrill, and Varric will go through the Elluvians and bring us back.”

“Who exactly is Dorian?” Hawke hates to admit it but he misses that scowl.

“Umm. He’s the Inquisitor’s companion… He’s an altus. But don’t worry. He’s actually very anti blood magic and very much a social and political pariah.” He doesn’t fail to notice Fenris’ snort.

“What’s the name?” Fenris becomes curt, “Family name. I mean.”

“Pavus, I believe?” the elf’s face suddenly softens.

“Pavus as I remember was not a bad kid. Hopefully he is still a good man.”

“The Inquisitor seems to have his faith in him. Much more than Cullen’s anyway.”

“Should that surprise anyone?” Fenris laughs softly, “I’m still angry at you.”

“I know. But I had to leave without telling you.”

“Not about that. Well not only about that.” Fenris sighs, “You made me think you _died_ Hawke, you could _still_ die. I don’t know how easily I can forgive you for that. It wasn’t a joke what I said at the Gallows that day: _nothing_ could be worse than the thought of living without you.” 

“You’re right,” Hawke resigns, “You’re right and I’m sorry. But I can promise you. I will do all it takes to return to you.”

“You fucking better. We’d just –“

“I know, Fenris. Give it a week, tops. I’ll get back to you.”

“You know you better.” Is the last of Fenris’ words to reach Hawke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this fic has multiple POVs, that'll happen in my long term fics. This will probably last from the reunion post-Here Lies the Abyss until the end of Inquisition. Might be the start of a Series for Dorian and Salluvani with some actual canon to it.


End file.
